


Not One Word

by Kymopoleia



Category: Star Wars
Genre: AU, Gen, JUST, its beautiful, read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 16:37:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5055973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kymopoleia/pseuds/Kymopoleia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi Wan hates himself sometimes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not One Word

Obi Wan Kenobi stood at his kitchen counter, jaw set and hands on his hips. He was bored, since Anakin was at work and the twins were with Padme in her senate meeting. She wanted to take a stand on the opinions of the senate compared to how real American families actually worked. Disregarding the fact that her husband was born in Africa and their lover was Scottish. Padme was the only one in the family that was even vaguely American, considering she was the first member of her Israelite family to be born in the US, and their family was unconventional by nearly every standard.

Nevertheless, Obi Wan reaches for the mousepad of his laptop, and clicks, a sense of dread somewhere in him. He shouldn't be doing this- but too late. 

Paula Dean appears onscreen, wearing a hideous blue dress and a red-and-white checkered apron with frills on the straps. He can see a gold Tiffany bracelet on her wrist, and wonders when the hell he learned what a Tiffany bracelet looked like. Her hair is pulled into a high ponytail behind her head, and her gloss-smeared lips are pulled back to reveal a smile. Obi Wan groans.

"Howdy y'all!" She exclaims onscreen. "Today we gon' be cookin' somethin' real good, it'll be a treat!"

Obi Wan taps at the marble island countertop impatiently.

"This is a real southern favorite, so if any a y'all out there live down here, you'll be happy I'm finally cookin' it!"

Obi Wan may just kill himself for this. He knows he won't, but he feels like he will.

"Have you ever taken a gander at a chunk a day old chicken," she pronounced the work 'cheek-end'. "And wondered whatever you could do wit' it?"

No.

She pauses for cheers from the live audience to subside. She smiles even wider. "Well, today I'm a gonna teach y'all how to make a..." She pauses unnecessarily. Obi Wan wants to strangle the woman. "Chicken pot pie!"

More unnecessary cheers. Obi Wan crosses his arms. He's wearing something sensible, a pale green sweater and pair of pants that are not sweat pants, and a few strings of leather bracelets. Anakin bought them, Padme bought the beads to put on them. Their function is the same as a wedding ring or a Shelley tattoo, to claim him as theirs.

Paula Dean continues. "I have been asked for years to show y'all what my family recipe for Chicken Pot Pies is, and I am comin' up on the show tonight to do just that. Alright, are y'all ready for it?"

Obi Wan, regretfully, is. They'd eaten chicken breasts the night before and had about five left over- plenty to make the pot pies from.

"Alright, so first of all, we're gonna get some chicken broth- some from a can or from the night before, it don't matter. Pour this into your cast iron, and heat it up on a medium heat until it's bubbling. Not boiling, mind you, bubbling."

Obi Wan does as told, pouring the can of chicken broth into the cast iron. He glances back at Paula Dean when he's finished that.

"Now you're gonna need some flour, some butter, and starch, and you're gonna need your vegetables. While that broth heats up, let's cut up them veggies."

Obi Wan grabs the carrots, peas, and potatoes, and starts cutting them into reasonable sizes while Paula babbles onscreen. He only begins caring again when she grabs the flour to work on the gravy.

"Now y'all need to put in a cup of flour for every half cup of broth, and stir it in real slow, alright?"

Obi Wan does, and is pleased to say it doesn't look too thin. However, it does look too thick.

"Stir in butter now, and add that starch, and as much water as you need to make it as thick or thin as you like."

Given that she never had him measure any amount of starch, Obi Wan groans and moves the video back to catch it. He learns it was supposed to be mixed by now, so he does that quickly.

"Now add in your vegetables and your chicken. Stir it up real good, put it on low, cover, and come over here- time for the breadin'!"

Obi Wan is incredibly, unbearably, not in the mood to deal with her babbling more about bread and butter, but he does, and ends up deciding, for lack of a better option, to make chicken pot pie cupcakes. He lays the dough down in each cup of a cupcake pan, and then pours the mixture into them. Then he covers them and puts them into the oven.

Obi Wan ends up with thirty six chicken pot pie cupcakes (muffins? He doesn't care enough to discern). He leaves them in the oven to keep them warm, and turns around to see Anakin in the kitchen, frozen in a state of slight undress and mild disbelief.

"Ben?"

"Not one word."

"G'bye y'all! Enjoy your chicken pot pies!" Paula Dean's high pitched drawl and cheers from her crowd blasts from the laptop.

"Not. One. Word." Obi Wan repeats. Anakin covers his mouth with his hand.


End file.
